


i fall to pieces (when i'm with you)

by pendules



Series: ambrollins prompts [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Late Night Conversations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: "Are you gonna tell me what's really going on, or am I gonna have to resort toother measuresto get you to spill it?"Seth narrows his eyes at him. "I'm not sure if you mean that in a sexual way or atortureway. Which is kind of worrying, honestly."Dean shrugs. "Hey, I'm game for either one."





	i fall to pieces (when i'm with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [thekingslayerrollins](http://thekingslayerrollins.tumblr.com): "some angst and h/c. Seth and Dean are sharing a bed. One of them wakes up during the night to find the other gone. They start to get upset thinking they left. Only the other is just in the bathroom, getting something to eat or drink etc."
> 
> Okay, this definitely got more angsty than I intended. Fair warning.

Dean should be used to waking up alone in cold, empty beds by now — but something's just unsettling and _wrong_ about it this time. Like, under his skin. Down inside his bones. He can feel it in the very depths of his actual _being_. Heart, soul, gut, intuition, whatever. It's not a rational fear, he knows, but he doesn't really care at this exact moment. Because something's not _right_. On a fundamental level. Because Seth was right next to him when he fell asleep, and it's the middle of the goddamn night, and now he's not there anymore.

The fact of his sudden absence is like a jolt to the heart. He's instantly completely awake and alert. Brain working on autopilot.

His phone's still sitting on the nightstand, so he can't have gone too far.

The bathroom light's off, but he checks it anyway. No dice.

Aimlessly walking through the hotel corridors looking for him is probably a futile endeavour, he knows. He has to come back at some point. He checks the time and it's a little after three. The witching hour, it registers absently in his head.

He thinks about just sitting and waiting for him to come back, but he's too fucking antsy right now not to do _something_ — Like pace a damn hole into the carpet while checking his phone for clues — Of course there's nothing of any real use there — _Damn it —_

Just as he's almost seriously considering calling the goddamn cops — he realises the door to the balcony is the slightest bit cracked open and he breathes an almost embarrassing sigh of relief.

He hadn't even thought to check, because why would _anyone_ in their right mind go outside at this godforsaken hour when most normal people are still curled up under three blankets and you probably couldn't pay them enough to step one foot out of their soft, warm beds. 

He grabs a hoodie because he's sure it's as cold as balls out there. He'll never understand the weirdos who actually _prefer_ fucking freezing to death over the alternative.

Seth apparently doesn't seem to mind it, because he's just sitting out there in a threadbare t-shirt and pajama pants, staring out into the grey nothingness.

"You scared me for a minute there," Dean says, without warning, voice gruff. "Thought you'd been kidnapped by a cult or something."

Seth jumps just the tiniest bit and he doesn't actually feel that bad about it. Turnabout's fair play and all.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he says, taking the other flimsy plastic chair on the small balcony, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie to warm them up.

"Couldn't sleep," Seth says simply, but there's something _off_ about his tone and the way he averts his eyes. "Didn't want to bother you with my endless tossing and turning."

"It's not _just_ that, though," Dean says with a pointed look in his direction.

"What do you mean?" Seth says, doing a pretty piss-poor job of feigning ignorance.

"You've been acting all skittish-like since — well, since you know what." Since they finally gave in to the strange, irresistible electricity between them a couple weeks ago. The _kissing_ part has been pretty fucking fantastic, and Seth seems to really dig it too — it's all the stuff in between that's been nagging at him, when he's cagey and quiet and will hardly look at him even if he's literally just had his tongue in his mouth.

"I'm — fine," Seth insists, with an almost admirable lack of conviction.

Dean huffs a sigh. "You know, it's way too fucking early for anything but total honesty. Can you just help me out here?" he says, practically a plea.

"I don't know what you _want_ from me," Seth says, oddly defensive, and Dean can feel him slowly putting his guards back up again.

"Are you gonna tell me what's really going on, or am I gonna have to resort to _other measures_ to get you to spill it?"

Seth narrows his eyes at him. "I'm not sure if you mean that in a sexual way or a _torture_ way. Which is kind of worrying, honestly."

Dean shrugs. "Hey, I'm game for either one."

Seth laughs, but it's hollow.

"I stare at you while you sleep sometimes," Seth admits, after a few moments of silence. "It's kind of a problem."

" _Jesus_ ," Dean says. "Creepy much?"

"You said you wanted _honesty_ ," Seth counters.

"Okay, fine, creepy confessions are good, too. No judgement." 

Seth laughs softly again, but it's richer, more genuine this time. "I used to do it before, too. When we were all cramped in one room and you always _said_ you'd take the floor but as soon as I offered, you'd end up hogging all the blankets —"

"I did _not_ ," Dean argues, but it's weak at best. 

"I used to think about how lucky I was," Seth continues. "To have you. But it wasn't enough — I always wanted _more_."

"What do you want _now_?" Dean asks him quietly.

"It's not that simple," Seth says, shaking his head.

"Why not? You asked _me_ that same thing once." 

He knows Seth remembers: they were in the ring and he was walking away from Dean, again, and he couldn't let it happen. And he'd just stared at him, wordless, helpless, before Seth had uttered the words. _What do you want?_ Like it was that easy. Because it _was_ , somehow. Because his answer was what it had always been: _this_ , _them_ , Seth and him standing side-by-side again.

"It's not the same," Seth tells him, almost apologetically. " _You_ don't fuck things up just by wanting them too hard."

"Is that what happened — before?" Dean asks carefully.

"I _knew_ I would fuck it up eventually — that you'd finally realise I was just a selfish asshole all along. That I wasn't worth _any of it_. So I ended it before that could happen."

It's the first time Seth's said any of this to him. And three years ago, Dean had been dying for an explanation — a _reason_ — something, _anything_. Something to alleviate the pain, something to absolve him of his own guilt and self-loathing. But now, it doesn't even matter. It doesn't make anything better. It was Seth's fault. And it was his fault too — for not _seeing_ it. Seeing the signs when he thought he knew him better than anyone, better than even _himself_.

"You didn't even give us a _chance_ —" Dean says, feeling all that old frustration and regret and hopelessness rising up in him again. _Goddammit, Seth, we could've fixed it — if you'd just let us —_

"I know. And I — I thought it would be different this time. I was so _desperate_ not to do anything to ruin it all again. And I was so happy. I didn't think I could _be_ that happy again —" Seth's voice cracks at the end, and he just squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, head bowed.

"And then what happened?" Dean asks, apprehensively.

"Then you — you just _kissed_ me, out of the blue, in the middle of a deserted parking lot," Seth says, eyes wide and staring far away now, almost in awe, like he still can't actually believe it. "And it was fucking _terrifying_. Because I just wanted it _so much_ —"

" _God_ , Seth —" Dean breathes.

"I just — I still don't know if I _deserve_ it," he murmurs, so softly, almost to himself.

"What?"

" _You_ ," he says, without any hesitation, finally turning to firmly hold his gaze.

Dean is actually speechless for a moment, which is admittedly quite a difficult feat to accomplish.

He licks his lips, swallows hard as he tries to collect his thoughts, string his words together again.

"Uh, so this is actually kind of _a lot_ of honesty for so early, you know —" he finally manages to get out.

"Sorry, I just —" 

Dean can feel Seth retreating back into himself again, and it's the last thing he wants.

" _No_ — don't be sorry. I just — I don't really know how to _do_ this either. I kissed you because I _wanted_ to. I know that. I want to do _lots_ of things with you. And I never thought I'd get the chance either. But we're — we're still fucking _here_ , you know? Even after doing enough stupid shit to probably get us killed fifty times over. I'd say that counts as a win."

Seth gives him his first true smile then. It's funny, how Seth smiling at him like that can still steal his breath away, even after all this time.

"Uh — So, what _else_ do you want?" he asks, almost shyly.

"I want to wake up and know that you're still there, for one," he says earnestly. "I want you to _talk_ to me. Even if I'm fucking awful at it."

"Okay," Seth promises, looking him right in the eyes. "No more running away from shit."

Dean reaches out and takes Seth's hand then. It's surprisingly warm to the touch. He presses the back of his hand to his own cheek for a second, then brings it to his mouth and brushes a kiss over his knuckles before intertwining Seth's fingers with his own in his lap.

"I'm sorry about before," Seth tells him after a beat. "If I freaked you out or anything —"

"It's okay," Dean reassures him. " _We're_ okay. That's all that matters."

Dean wonders if they're just going to stay out here until the sun rises. He finds that, somehow, he really doesn't mind the idea at all. As long as Seth's next to him, it seems like he's willing to put up with pretty much anything.

"You know," Dean says casually. "As long as it's still ass-o'clock in the morning and we're doing this whole honesty thing —"

"Yeah?" Seth asks tentatively.

"I like you a lot," Dean tells him seriously. "It's kind of a problem."

Seth just smiles even brighter at him and squeezes his hand tighter.


End file.
